Til Death Do Us Part...

Life with Jon 4

Ilva's fingers were trembling while she tried to open her front door. She was tired. She could barely keep her eyes open and each step seemed to be even harder than the one before. She had never known that one day at college could be this exhausting and overwhelming.

She has lost count of how many times someone had asked her if she was okay. She had lost count of how many times she had answered that she was trying to make the best of it, that she didn't want this to stop her life, that she was too young to waste the rest of her time behind the windows watching the world just turning and turning. And she had lost count of how many times she had not meant a word of what she had said.

The door swung open and Ilva hung her jacket over one of the chairs. Her footsteps echoed through the empty apartment. She wasn't the only one who had left the house this morning to see if she was ready for life to start again.

Jon had left this morning too. He had asked her at least ten times if he really shouldn't take another day off to go with her to campus, but she had assured him that he could go to the office, that he could distract himself by writing articles for magazines and newspapers, that he could leave her alone for one day.

Ilva fell down in her comfortable chair. She was too tired to even put the television on. She was too tired to grab her phone and call her parents to let them know how today had been. She was too tired to walk to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Maybe she could order pizza for the two of them. Or noodles. But only after closing her eyes for a brief moment.

"Ilva?"

Ilva's eyes flashed open when a strong pair of hands grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "Jon..." She straightened her back and her hand went through her hair to hide the fact that she had been so fest asleep. "What time is it?"

"It's seven pm." Jon's voice sounded raw and he stared at her with his eyebrows furrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. "How was your day? When did you come home?"

Ilva took a deep breath and stared at the clock. She couldn't have slept two full hours, it was just not possible. But the clock on the wall proved Jon right and Ilva bent her head to stare at her feet. "I'm sorry I don't have dinner ready." She reached for her phone and searched through her contacts until she found the pizzeria around the corner. "What pizza do you like?"

Jon shook his head and he opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. "Something with mushrooms."

"That's not a pizza, Jon." Ilva's fingers tapped on the wooden armrest and she switched her phone to her other ear. "But fine, I'll see what they have with mushrooms."

Five minutes later she hung up and with her phone still in her hands she leaned back in her chair. "I came home at five. I just wanted to close my eyes for a moment. I didn't mean to sleep two hours."

Jon sat down in the other seat and he folded his arms in his lap. "It's okay. How was your day?"

Ilva shrugged. She had been on the brink of crying from the moment she entered campus to the moment she had left it again. She had seen his ghost wherever she had been. She had seen him in the library, pointing out the books she didn't need, but he would have liked. She had seen him in the auditorium, commenting on the professor like he had always done when she had told him about her classes. She had seen him on the grass field, on a blanket, with a picnic basket, like he had been waiting for her to join him.

"Are you okay?" Jon cocked his head and he placed his hands on his upper legs. He tightened his grip on the fabric of his jeans and he bit his lip. He was clearly not expecting her to answer yes and he would for sure not answer yes himself if she would return the question.

"He was everywhere." She buried her face in her hands and attempted to hide her tears. "Maybe I should transfer to another campus, to another college, to a place where he hasn't been yet." She tried to stop crying, but it was almost impossible. "If anyone still wants to have me, because I've heard at least five times that people were glad to finally see me again."

Finally. As if taking a few months to mourn the man who would have become her husband was way too long. As if she should have been over him by now. As if everyone had moved on and expected her to do the same. Had they expected the same from Catelyn when she had lost her husband? Or did being officially married make so much of a difference to so many people?

"I know the feeling." Jon whispered. "My chef wanted me to write an article on the army. He hadn't even thought about the fact that I lost my brother on a fucking battlefield."

Ilva looked up when Jon cursed. He cursed rarely, but when he did the curse was raw and pure, filled with hatred and pain. "I hate people. It's for their safety that soldiers give their lives on those battlefields. It's to make sure that monsters can't come to our home, that dictators can't rule the world. And how do they thank our soldiers and those they leave behind? By telling them to act like everything is fine and this is just another day."

The long silence that followed was interrupted by the doorbell.

Jon stood up from his seat. His movements seemed slow and heavy, as if every step pained him just as much as each step pained Ilva.

Ilva had lost her future husband, her best friend, her mate.

Jon had lost his brother, his comrade, the only person in the world he trusted for the full hundred percent.

Ilva smiled. She didn't wish for Jon to be in pain, he didn't deserve it, but somehow the weight of her loss felt less heavy because there was at least someone who carried it too.